Happy Endings
by Darcelona
Summary: This is a little thing I wrote about Voldemort's return to power and how everyone deals. R/R


Happy Endings

_A/N The idea for this story came to me at 1 in the morning a while ago. It takes place in the 5th year during Christmas. I tried to portray how I think each character will deal with Voldemort's resurrection and the havoc it wreaks. I hope you enjoy!!! _J _Oh, and I make a reference to the book _The Princess Bride;_ the "bride" is a real ditz and when she tries to apologize to her boyfriend person for something she said, she confused "syllable" with "syllabub" hahaha. _

"_**20 Muggles dead in Little Hangleton at the hands of Death Eaters" **_

_ Last Tuesday night, the Silks, a wealthy Muggle family along with sixteen houseguests, were found dead in their estate in Little Hangleton. It has been confirmed that You-Know-Who's group of Death Eaters, besieged the house, performing the Avada Kedavra curse on each of the twenty Muggles. _

_ The Ministry of Magic detected the Dark Mark hovering over the Silk house at around 11 o'clock, and immediately sent officials dressed as police men to investigate the scene. Upon entering the house, they found not a single survivor of the attack. _

_ "We have been lead to believe that [Little Hangleton] has some sort of significance to the Death Eaters, since it has suffered from more attacks of any other place since the [Death Eater's] re-appearance in Britain." Says Phinias Prewett, a Ministry spokesperson. When questioned about the Ministry's plan of defense, a very flustered Minister Cornelius Fudge again declined comment. _

_ The casualties were George and Florence Silk, fifteen extended relatives and close friends, and their three children, including their 10-year old daughter Rosemary, a Muggle-born witch, who was to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the fall of the New Year. _

Hermione finished reading the _Daily Prophet _article to her audience, which was expressing a diverse range of emotions; Ron's fists were clenched on the breakfast table, his face set in anger; Ginny was pale and trembling, obviously scared out of her wits; but Harry looked utterly miserable, his head hanging low, tears beginning to glisten in his eyes. Hermione, however, wasn't betraying any feeling at all; throughout the article she adopted a lifeless, monotone voice, similar to that of Professor Binns.

"How many does that make now?" Ginny asked timidly, as if she were afraid to learn the answer. 

Ron snapped at her, "What's wrong with you?! You don't ask questions like that! Have a little respect for the dead!"

"408 since last June." Hermione answered, ignoring Ron's outburst completely. _(A/N I really don't know what a good figure would be for the death toll so far, so if you think mine is ridiculous, just make up your own.) _A deafening silence fell upon the four of them, as it had a tendency to do lately. Harry, who had been distractedly mashing his eggs with his fork, dropped it, and wiped his eyes as he bent to pick it up. Without warning, Ron slammed his fist on the table in frustration, causing everyone to start.

"This sucks! I hate that we're just sitting around like helpless gits, allowing these things to happen! Why isn't Fudge doing anything to stop it? He should be rounding up as many Death Eaters as he can and killing them, just like they're doing to us! He can't pretend it isn't happening, not anymore!"

Hermione sighed. "Ron, Fudge doesn't want to take any action because then he'd have to admit to himself that he has to relive one of the darkest times of his life. He's in denial, and you can't really blame him. And Dumbledore has got spies and his resistance movement-"

"-A whole lot of good _they're_ doing," Ron interrupted.

"-But anyway, if we were to 'round up Death Eaters' like you suggest, we'd be no better than they are."

"Who cares if we're better than they are-" but the menacing look on Hermione's face clearly said that the subject was closed.

"Well, what a fine holiday this is turning out to be," Ron said sardonically.

And indeed, the morale of the students had never been lower during the Christmas break. Those who remained at the castle for the break were downhearted and quiet; the usual rowdy holiday spirit had been replaced with a gloomy shadow of foreboding and fear that hung over everyone's head. The constant reports of Death Eater activity seemed to drain the students of any cheer, especially those of Muggle families. But the worst part of the situation was that no one was providing any answers. Cornelius Fudge had refused to admit that Voldemort had risen again. Harry was the only person alive who had seen Voldemort back from his alleged "death" fifteen years ago. 

* * *

That evening in the common room, Harry and they others all tried in vain to get the morning's article out of their heads. Harry and Ron were munching on Chocolate Frogs at a table next to the fire, engaged in a game of chess, but neither of their hearts were in it at all; Ginny was trying her hand at knitting, but her hands were trembling so much she could hardly work the needles correctly; but Hermione, the only one who wasn't showing visible signs of strain, was in her usual armchair, her face buried in one of her enormous books. 

At half past nine, after Harry's knight somehow managed to capture Ron's queen ("How could you have missed that, it was so obvious she was open to an attack! Where's your head at?" Ron's king shouted indignantly.), Ron decided that it was pointless to try and concentrate on anything, and that they all ought to go to bed. Harry and Ginny agreed and made for the staircase, but Hermione remained seated and said, "You all go ahead, I'm going to stay here and read some more."

"Honestly, Hermione, if you don't take a break from studying one of these days your eyes are gonna fall out." Ron admonished.

"Thanks for the advice, but I think I'm fine." Hermione replied, not bothering to look up from her book. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

Harry's imagination refused to let him get even a wink of sleep that night; it was playing the group images that had formed in his head in the past seven months over and over again. Pictures of panicking Muggles being tortured and terrorized plagued him as he tossed and turned in his bed. His memories from the Third Task made a guest appearance as well, adding a pinch of guilt to the bubbling cauldron of his psyche. His eyes welled up from time to time, and he took advantage of the dark dorm room to hide his shameful tears. A few hours of inner torment passed before Harry heard a whisper from the next bed,

"Harry? You up?" Ron muttered

"Yeah," He answered, quickly wiping his eyes on his pillowcase. "Can't sleep."

"Me neither. I left my Chocolate Frogs in the common room. Feel up for stretching your legs and getting a midnight snack?"

"Sure, why not?" And so they tiptoed out of their dorm and down the spiral staircase. As they approached their table, a shadowy figure came into their line of vision. It was Hermione, in the exact some position she had been in when they left her, reading by the faint glow of the dying fire. Ron's jaw dropped.

"Is there something wrong with your head?! Studying at this hour?! God, _nothing_ distracts you from your work, does it?! The whole freaking world could end, and you wouldn't let it get in the way of your precious studying!"

"Ron, I'm not-" Hermione started.

"And you of all people shouldn't be all calm and collected about what's going on, you're a target, your family's a target!"

'Ron, it isn't-" but Ron seemed to have broken down some dam of frustration and anger inside of him, and the inundation could not be quelled.

"Innocent people are being killed almost every day, how can that not affect you!? You're just unbelievable!" Ron, through with his tirade, started to storm off, but he stopped in his tracks as Hermione began reading her book aloud:

_"There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner-" _

"What is that?" Ron demanded. Hermione showed Ron the cover of the book she had read from, and said "Well, it certainly isn't a school book, sorry to break it to you," Hermione spat bitterly, "it's _Jane Eyre _by Charlotte Bronte, one of my favorite books. I've read it at least five times."

"If you've already read it so many times, why are you bothering to read it again?"

"Because I already know it has a happy ending. I'm not the emotion-less homework machine you make me out to be, Ron, everything that's happening right now is tearing me apart." Harry noticed, for the first time since the year started, that there were tears shining in Hermione's eyes. "I deal with it all by reading, getting lost in the characters and the plot helps me forget about how depressed I am. And since I've already read these books," gesturing to the towering pile in the chair next to her, "I know that whatever happens, they all have happy endings. It makes me feel- oh I don't know- secure somehow; it's as if the book is comforting me.

Harry saw Ron about to make a spiteful comment, and not keen on hearing them bicker more, he hastily asked, "So, what's this book about, Hermione?"

Hermione's face lit up, "It's about this poor plain girl named Jane Eyre who is treated like garbage by her family, and she gets a job as a governess at a place called Thornfield. She works for a man named Edward Rochester, and eventually falls in love with him. He loves her back, but he's got a terrible secret- oh I don't want to give the entire book away, why don't you both just sit down and I read it to you?"

Harry moved Hermione's books to the floor and sat in the armchair next to her, but Ron laughed.

"I haven't been read to since I was about five! I think I'll pass."

Hermione smiled coyly. "Well, alright Ron, I guess it'll just be me and Harry down here alone. All by ourselves. Together." She moved deliberately closer to Harry, batting her eyelashes and tilting her head slightly. 'Goodnight Ron, see you in the morning." Ron looked accusingly from Hermione to Harry and back again, and said, "Actually, maybe I will stay and listen, it's not like I'm gonna get any sleep." He plopped down into the chair across from her. Harry had to give Hermione credit, not only for her acting skills, but also for exploiting Ron's jealousy to get her way. 

* * *

The next morning found Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting at the breakfast table, having their first actual conversation in weeks. They had stayed up until dawn reading _Jane Eyre_, and were now exchanging their opinions on the book.

"It was way too girly, all that love and kissy-face stuff, ew." Ron commented

"Yeah, it was a bit mushy, but the part with Rochester's crazy wife- what a plot twist!" said Harry. Ron nodded.

"Poor guy, being tricked into marrying a nutter like that,"

Hermione snorted with laughter.

"What?" Ron asked defensively.

"It's just that- listening to you two- I never would have imagined us discussing a piece of literature. It's great."

"What's great?" Ginny, who had just sat down next to Hermione, asked in a weary voice, her manner somber and her face pallid. Hermione explained their nightly activity, which seemed to brighten Ginny's mood somewhat.

"That sounds like fun," said Ginny.

"Yes, well, we can do it again tonight, I've got a ton more books,"

Thus began their nightly ritual; every evening after the rest of the house had gone to bed, Harry, Ron, Ginny would assemble by the fire and listen to Hermione read tales of all sorts; each having but one thing in common; a happy ending. She read them the romantic and adventurous _The Princess Bride_, the seasonally appropriate _A Christmas Carol_, and even the wacky _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. _Hermione had started reading _The Odyssey_, but halfway through book one, she realized that she was boring her audience to tears, so she switched gears to _The Secret Garden._ Hermione got them so involved in the books that a heated dispute broke out over the ending of _A Tale of Two Cities_.

"How could you think that Sydney Carton dying constitutes a happy ending?" Ron asked.

"It's a happy ending because he redeems himself as a person by giving his life for Darnay. By trading places with him, Carton does the only truly unselfish thing he's ever done in his life." Ginny explained.

"I still don't think it's happy enough. I still think that Lucy should have chosen Sydney over Darnay, I mean, Darnay was totally shady; he lied about who he was, once Lucy found out she should have gone with Sydney and help him turn his life around."

Hermione gasped. "Oh, what's this? Ron, Mister Manly Man actually would have preferred a _mushier_ ending? The world as we know it is ending- hold me Ginny!" Hermione exaggeratedly threw her arms around Ginny, both girls pretending to sob uncontrollably into the other's shoulder.

"Oh please," said Ron, going a little pink.

"They're right Ron, you're going soft on us." Harry chortled.

"Am not!" but Ron had begun to chuckle along with his friends, who, at that moment, hadn't a care in the world.

* * *

The last day of the holidays was upon them, much to their disappointment. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were in no way looking forward to returning to classes or a normal sleeping schedule (for their nightly reading habit kept them up for all hours). They sat together at the breakfast table that morning, mildly put-out. As Ginny was asking Ron to pass the butter, the mail arrived, and a screech owl carrying the _Daily Prophet_ landed unexpectedly on the table, splattering pumpkin juice all over Hermione's plate. 

"Oh joy, the newspaper, can't wait to see what's going on in the world toda-" she started sarcastically, but stopped abruptly as she scanned the front page. Her eyes widened in shock, she blanched, and put her hand to her mouth, muttering "Oh my God…"

"What is it?" Harry and Ron asked in unison, their hearts filling with dread.

"Colin and Dennis Creevy were killed last night." She moaned.

"What?!" Ginny squeaked, tears creeping into her voice. Hermione read aloud:

_ "Muggle killing at Manchester residence_

_ Last night, the Creevy residence was the sight of the latest Muggle killings by You-Know-Who's group of Death Eaters. Benjamin Creevy, along with his sisters Claire, Martha and Jillian, and his two young sons, Colin and Dennis, perished in the attack. The family had gathered in Benjamin's Manchester home to celebrate the holidays; Colin and Dennis, both Muggle-born wizards, had come home from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry on their Christmas break-"_

Ginny, who couldn't bear to listen any longer, jumped from her seat and sprinted out of the Great Hall, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Ginny, wait!" Hermione ran after her, tossing the newspaper onto the floor. Harry was utterly speechless. Ron had picked up the newspaper and begun reading the article, a furious look on his face. Colin and Dennis Creevy, dead; the reality of it just refused to sink in. Sure, Colin and Dennis weren't close friends of Harry's; in fact, they were downright pests most of the time; but Harry was still disillusioned by it all. And he thought about poor Ginny; Colin was in her year and Harry had known that they were fairly close. Making up his mind to go and comfort her, Harry got up, told Ron where he was going, and rushed to the common room. He had just reached the Fat Lady when Hermione walked out, looking a bit shaken up, but trying not to.

"Ginny's really upset and said she wants to be alone; I wouldn't bother trying to cheer her up if I were you."

Harry didn't respond, and just continued past he as if she hadn't said anything. Hermione sighed and made her way back to the Great Hall.

Harry found his way to Ginny's room rather easily; the girls' tower was nearly identical to the boys'. Harry entered the dorm that read "4th Years" to find Ginny sitting on the bed closest to the door, her legs folded up to her chest, her tear-stained face buried in her kneecaps. She looked up when Harry closed the door behind him, and her face contorted in anger.

"Go away, I don't want to talk to you!" she shouted practically in hysterics, "You're probably glad this happened, now annoying old Colin won't follow you around and pester you anymore!" There was a pause, then Ginny gasped, clasped her hand over her mouth, as if stunned by the words that she had said.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!" she leapt off the bed and threw her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollable, mumbling incoherently into his shoulder.

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it," Harry murmured, "Not a single syllabub of it" said Harry, trying to lighten things up by quoting _the Princess Bride_. Ginny chuckled slightly. Slowly but surely, she began to collect herself.

"Thanks," Ginny pulled away from him to wipe her eyes. "I appreciate you coming up here, really. I mean, you didn't have to or anything-"

"I wanted to. I knew that you and Colin were friends; I wanted to see if there was anything I could do. I'm really sorry that you have to deal with something like this."

"Yeah," Harry saw her lip trembling again, so he pulled her close. 

"It's okay, it's okay," Harry stroked her hair in what he hoped was a comforting way, and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

* * *

On her way back to the Great Hall, Hermione found Ron just beginning to make his way up the marble staircase, looking sour.

"Hey Ron, want to go to the library?" Hermione asked, her enthusiasm was frighteningly overt considering the latest news. "I was thinking about getting a head start in Potions; Snape mentioned something about working on a Sleeping potion and I want to get a head on it."

Ron gaped at Hermione as if she had grown two extra heads.

"Or we could have a game of chess or Exploding Snap- I know, let's read a book, I've got a few more you've never-"

"Hermione!" Ron interjected, "Stop it! Stop trying to avoid the obvious; you can't keep distracting yourself from everything that's going on. I know you think that keeping busy is you're way of coping, but you're not coping at all. Colin and Dennis are dead; you can't just pretend that it doesn't affect you. You're bottling up your feelings and it's not healthy. I'm worried about you."

Hermione laughed, "Worried? About me? Don't be silly, Ron, I'm fine-"

"No you're not." Ron cut her off. "I know you're suffering because of all of this, and you have to let out your feelings at some point.

"I- I really just- I can't" she whispered, looking at her feet. "I can't get all emotional and weepy and all that, I've always found that it's just too hard to stop acting that way once you start. 

"Hermione, I know you're trying to be strong-you _are_ strong- but that doesn't mean you're not allowed to, you know, cry and all that. You should, you'd feel so much better afterward."

"You'd better be right," she said, before she broke down completely. She cried and cried on Ron's shoulder for what seemed like hours. (Hermione's shoulder didn't remain particularly dry either) Contrary to Hermione's theory, she was able to stop crying eventually, but not until her heart was satisfied. Indeed, they all cried and grieved and mourned and lamented to their heart's content; they would have stopped functioning otherwise. That's the funny thing about pain; it goes away when it's ready. And when you're ready. When all was said and done, when the madness finally came to an end, they went on with their lives, but they never forgot what Voldemort accidentally taught them, how to cry. 

_A/N I know, cheesy ending to a cheesy story, but review anyhow, please????_


End file.
